


Reunion

by Panther (PantherTheRogue)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Slavery, How Is Slavestuck Not A Tag, I Got Lazy, M/M, Sort Of Fluff, slavestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PantherTheRogue/pseuds/Panther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Slavery is a thing and Gamzee sets off to find his little Tavvy. </p>
<p>I suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I may add more chapters if enough people read this and want it to be a thing.

Your feet scuff the ground and you trip a couple times as you stride down the long hallway filled with the sounds of moaning and wailing, usually cut short by the intimidation or threat of a guard. The cells in this section contain greenbloods, excluding the limebloods, who were only just high and rare enough to fit into society. But none of them mattered.  You soon get to the yellowbloods, who weren’t of any interest either. Your eyes flick everywhere, an occasional honk escaping your clammy, chapped, shaking lips whenever you would trip over your own feet or pants.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you are terrified. Terrified that he wouldn’t be there. Terrified that he was culled or sold or something. As soon as you hit the brownblooded section, you immediately slow down. There weren’t many rustbloods, and even less redbloods, due to the fact that trolls so far down in the hemospectrum are usually tortured to death for the amusement of highbloods, something your father often partook in, which, needless to say, disgusted you out of your mind.

You stare carefully into each cell, looking for the boy you’ve spent sweeps searching for.

_“Hey, I heard that they were gunna have some brownbloods in the next shipment.” Your best friend mentioned way too casually, glancing (or glaring, it was kind of hard to tell) at you knowingly with those half-covered red eyes of yours. You stared at him for a long time before flashing a toothy grin at him._

_“Then this motherfucker better all up and get himself his motherfuckin’ friend!”_

You curse under your breath when you don’t see those familiar long horns, fuzzy Mohawk, or adorable smile. Though, who was going to find a smile within three miles of here? You keep going, forcing yourself to believe that they put him in the wrong section. There wasn’t much left of the redbloods, and all the mutants had already been culled (save for your best bro, who you managed to save and bribe your way to his safety). You let out a huff that sounded like a small ‘honk’ and you were about ready to give up when you hear a small, muffled sob. Normally, you would have brushed it off as some poor sucker you didn’t know. But this sounded familiar…

You turn and speed towards the sob. You snarl a bit when you find a guard harassing the brownblood, telling the small thing to shut its mouth. You sneak a peek in to see a troll, curled into himself in the corner of the cell, his horns seemingly snapped in half. You see a lot of blood in that cell. A fuck ton. You growl and grab the guards arm.

“Let me in, motherfucker.”

The stupid fucking guard just stared at you. You could hear yourself getting angry.

“I said…”

“ ** _LET THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN!”_**

The guard wasted no more time, that was for fucking sure.

In a matter of seconds, you were in the cell, lifting up the brownblood’s head. The thing was blindfolded, but, despite the caved in cheeks from starvation, the bloodied, wounded, mangled, even tinier body, lack of horns, overgrown, uneven hair, and missing teeth, you knew. You knew this was your little Taurus. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. You turn the guard and stand.

“Give me the motherfuckin’ key.”

The guard does so as quickly as he could. _Jumpy little motherfucker…_ you figure, forgetting about your little episode literally seconds ago, due to the excitement of getting to see your Tavbro. You unlock the chains binding him to the wall, frowning when you see how worn down his wrists have become from the tightness of the cuffs.

You pick up the brownblood, not caring if people stared at you two. You didn’t want your little Tavvy to be walking in his current condition.

As you (sort of) predicted, you got many stares. You ignore all of those motherfuckers. All that mattered was that Tavvy was in your arms. And he would never leave them again.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavvys perspective on all this shit ;33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even expect ten people to read this. Eighty~?! Guys, I'm so excited and happy... Just... Here. Have this. It's my gift to you.

You curl up more, forcing yourself to keep your eyes closed, despite the blindfold. You wanted it to be over. Or, at least, to be back in a certain indigobloods arms again. You can’t remember his name, his voice, his features… It’s been way too long. Eleven sweeps, to be exact. You started forgetting after about five sweeps. You gave hope after seven.

 _“I’ll come for you, Tavbro! Don’t fuckin’ worry, bro! I got this!” were the last words you remember hearing as they dragged you away_. (You can’t remember the voice, so you’ve just substituted the voice with something masculine sounding.)

What a fucking lie.

You let out a whimper as the caravan you and about nineteen other lowbloods were being transported in came to a stop. You were here. Another sweep, another master. Nobody really wanted you, since you were too stubborn to cry out or react to the pain that they inflicted on you. _Not that it ever stopped them_ your brain inputted for you bitterly, your wounds suddenly aching. Especially your horns. Oh, Gog, you shouldn’t have thought about that. The dull, but unbearable, throbbing started up again. You let out a soft whimper. Beneath the sobs and cries of the other slaves, it went unnoticed.

 You’re forced to step out of the caravan. You don’t open your eyes, since the moonlight hurts too much. Though, it’s nothing compared to being forced to stand outside during the day. You shudder when you think of your skin boiling and burning under the scorch of the sun. You’re prodded with a weapon of some kind, poking painfully into a fresh bruise given not even a day ago.

This was your life. Being bought, tortured, and sold. Bought tortured sold, bought tortured sold, bought tortured sold… It was a cycle that had no hope of ever ending.

They force you into a building. It had a musty smell to it. It was a sickeningly familiar smell. You hated it. Fellow slaves were herded into tiny cells, though you can only hear what’s going on due to the blindfold. You only know the cells were tiny because you would be squished against the bars and another brownblood and there would only be about five other people in there. More are forced into the cells. You hear a guard mutter, “Mustardblooded freaks…” and keep on moving on. It was just you and three other trolls now. You’re forced in, as well as two others. There was no one else in the cage, so you had some space. They chained you to a wall and you had to stifle a groan. _Great. It’s THIS kind of place…_  You bring your knees to your chest and flop your head down. This was going to be a long couple of days.

 

 

 

It’s been three days since you were brought to this place. No one has picked you yet. You always use this time to think about your miserable existence, since there’s usually no time for that in between beatings at a highbloods house. You let out a muffled sob as you think of Aradias death, Nepetas cries and wails for her moirail, and Kanayas grim expression as you’re shipped away from the home she was permanently in. You try to contain yourself when you think bitterly about how you remember their names and faces when you can’t even remember that indigobloods **voice**. You stiffen as you hear a shout. It sounds like the owner of that shout is trying to get into your cell. _Please don’t be me please don’t be me please don’t…_

Someone gently tilts your head up. He mumbles something to a guard, and next thing you know, you’re being carried away. You don’t really care at this point (though, it’s nice not having to walk). You end up passing out from exhaustion. You needed sleep, anyways.

 

 

 

You wake up in a bed who-knows-how-long later. You remember dully how highbloods had gotten rid of recuperacoons because the sopor slime was “unfashionable”. _I wonder when this troll is going to swap my blindfold out for one of their blood color_ you think the inevitable thought that always seems to creep into your mind every time you’re bought. You sit up and try to stand all too quickly. You panic as you start to collapse to the floor and instinctively fling your arm out to grab something that probably isn’t even there.

Well, this time there WAS something there.

You fall to the ground anyways, but you brought a little lamp friend to crash down right on top of you! Yay!

You cry out as glass shards from the lamp dig into your raw flesh. Great. Now you’re sure you’ve woken up your new master. What a great first impression. _Why do I have to be so damn clumsy?_ You think bitterly as you hear the door swing open. You turn your head towards the noise to speak to your master directly. If you’re going to plead for your life, you should at least be facing the troll who was (hopefully) going to grant mercy upon you.

“I.. I’m s-sorry, m-master, I.. I t-tried to s-stand and I.. I j-just.. I.. U-Uh…” You curse your stutter mentally and try to look as pitiful as possible.

You’re surprised as **strong** arms quickly wrap around you.

“S-Sir..? Or.. Uh.. M-Ma’am… S-sorry.. Uh… I… Uh…”

“Shoosh, motherfucker… Don’t all up and ruin the fuckin’ moment… I missed ya so much, Tavbro…”

You recognize this person. The scent, the voice, the arms… Your mind races and suddenly, you remember the name you’ve been yearning to remember for six sweeps.

“… Gamzee?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you people would like more, then who am I to say no~? Tell me if you want any more of this shtuff ;33 I suck at dialog though. So just warnin' ya ;33
> 
> (By the way, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri was the only song I listened to whilst writing this. It reminds me of this fic :33)
> 
> ~ Panther ;33
> 
> EDIT:
> 
> Okay guys, I'm having trouble thinking of another chapter for this. It was meant to be a oneshot, but then I decided to be a butt and make myself try to write more. Also, my mind is clouded because I was thinking of a different idea for these two DD: What do you guys think? Should I go for the other one or try to come up with another thing for this one..?


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the crappiness

You start shaking. Trembling. You want to hug back, but you’re frozen. You want to cry, scream, throw yourself at him, tell him about your pain, cuddle, kiss, touch…

You want to love him.

Sure, love was a human thing or whatever, and apparently trolls couldn’t feel love, but you’re damn fucking sure that this is love.

Fuck the system.

You want to love Gamzee Makara.

You want to be held by these long lanky arms forever, cradled, comforted, told “everything is going to be alright” instead of the usual “get up, shitblood, your owner doesn’t want you. Nobody does”.

Of course, your pride won’t allow for you to succumb to this so easily.

You force yourself to stop shaking and whisper, “G… Gamz.. I… Uh… You need to, uh, get off of me..”

“No.”

Welp.

“B.. but, what if.. uh.. somebody, sees…?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

As good an answer as you were going to get.

You curl up in his arms, accepting the warmth being offered to you. When had you become so cold? You slowly wrap your arms around his neck. The two of you don’t move for a long while. You feel Gamzee shift after what seemed like hours (and probably was) and whisper, “You still have this motherfucking shit on… Hold up, Tavbro…”

You feel your blindfold shift and suddenly drop. You slowly open your eyes, only to be met with unfamiliar blinding light. When was the last time you saw any type of light again? Since you were whisked away into slavery, you believe. You cover your eyes, screaming in pain, your eyeballs feeling like they were on fire.

You hear Gamzee run around frantically, and then feel something soft tossed over you. You assume it’s a blanket.

“Shit, Tavbro! I all up and forgot about how much that evil motherfuckin’ light would hurt your sensitive sight-sponges!”  
Even in the most painful of situations, Gamzee’s vocabulary never ceases to amaze you. Sight-sponge? Really? Whatever, you’re pretty busy with your unbearable pain, so you promptly forget about it. You whimper and sob at the intense pain, falling to your side and curling into yourself. You feel the blanket lift up and, after a few seconds, arms wrap around your probably-pathetic-looking body.

“Shh, Tav… Shh.. I’ve got you… You ain’t got no business hurtin’ all up in this bitch.. Relax.. The unmiraculous sun can’t get all up under this motherfuckin’ safety blanket o’ ours…” His word choice is odd, but the way he coaxes it into your ear makes up for that. You sniffle as your tears and sobs begin to die down. You feel Gamzee smile against your ear.

“Aw… See…? You be feelin’ better already with somma my motherfuckin’ Makara miracles. So, uncover your eyes for me, Tavvy…? Please…? Or, at least, like, fuckin’ talk to me, bro..”

You can hear the sadness in his voice. It dawns on you that the only word you’ve said this whole time was ‘Gamzee?’. You immediately feel a wave of guilt.

_He’s been waiting sweeps for this. And you’re just lying here, crying like a baby. Nice one, Tavros._

You slowly move your hands and your eyes adjust slowly. There seem to be multiple layers of blankets, so the light couldn’t get in at all. Your eyes fix on a familiar white-and-grey face. Then, the details. There were more bags under his eyes than usual and the smile he had on looked like his face wasn’t used to it. And the scars… Oh, gog, those scars on his face. That little incident scared the shit out of you when you thought about it.

But those days were over now. You reach out a shaky hand to touch his cheek, smiling when you feel his skin/face paint on your calloused hand. He rests his own rough ones atop the one you just extended, closing his eyes and stroking the hand up and down, grinning like a fool, his dangerous fangs poking out above his lower lip.

You look at his nose and smirk to yourself.

_I wonder if this still works…_

You take your index finger and thumb and pinch his nose, earning you a surprised honk from the jugglo. You’re surprised you remembered that about him.

“Aw, man, it’s motherfuckin’ on!”

You both proceed to have the cutest ticklefight in the history of paradox space.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  } : o ) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re left a laughing, snorting mess. Gamzee was a dirty fucking cheater, going for your grublett pores (it pissed you off that you still had them and Gamzee’s faded away quite some time ago (oh, grublett pores are the place your grub legs detached from, if you didn’t know)) and the base of your horns. You’re left giggling and slightly horny.

Slightly.

You swear it’s only slightly.

You crack one eye open to see Gamzee staring at you admiringly. Love/pity, whatever, flooded his eyes intensely. And you stared back, trying your best to concentrate on his eyes instead of your growing lust.

He reached his hand out and stroked your hair, still staring into your eyes, wriggling closer to you.

You two are less than three centimeters close. More or less. You’re a slave, not an engineer, all you know is you guys are REALLY close.

And you love it.

He closes his eyes half way, and you take the hint and close your eyes, bringing yourself close enough to seal your lips together.

You move your lips against one another, working together to make this a tender and beautiful moment.

You open your mouth to tell him that you love him (pity him, WHATEVER), but he takes that as an invitation to slip his unnaturally long tongue into your mouth.

Highbloods tongues are long, sure, you’ve seen Her Imperious Condescension’s tongue (don’t ask), but it wasn’t as long as Gamzee’s tongue.

Maybe it was an indigoblood thing.

You decide to dwell on that later. Right now, you’ve got a head full of lust, a mouth full of Makara, and a hand full of hair.

Wait, what?

Since when were you grabbing his hair?

Whatever, he doesn’t seem to mind.

Again, not the time to discuss this. You had a tongue down your throat. What more could you want right now, except maybe some water.

You break away after a while and push him away slightly, glancing up at him.

“I.. uh.. don’t feel like.. uh.. We should, go too far, today… Okay?”

Gamzee nods slowly and understandingly, though you’re pretty sure he spaced out and only really heard “no touchy today, ‘kay?”.

You two cuddle up, limbs tangling and entwining.

“I love you, Tavbro… Like, human love you…”

You grin widely at those words, glad that he didn't just pity you.

You feel like pity isn't as meaningful as human love.

“… I human love you, too, Gamz…” you whisper, managing not to stutter.

And with that, you both fall asleep, more content than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS DOOOOOOOONE
> 
> AHHHHHHHH
> 
> I will try to make a series out of this. Like, explain everything, add more ships, yeah, that shtuffeh shtuff.
> 
> Also, sorry for the abrupt ending. I suck at smut, and I'm really tired ^uu^'

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was gunna write a LOT more, but inspiration left me, and this is what you get.
> 
> This is my first time ever writing a fanfiction. I send stories no my friend sometimes, but other than that, I'm too embarrassed or nervous to write fanfiction. Please give me some constructive criticism~! I would love that~
> 
> ~ Panther ;33


End file.
